Heart Like Yours

Chapter 30: weaponless

Legolas watched Bolg going to attack his mother, he tried to shoot an arrow but saw that he's out, he jumps onto a war beast and makes him ram into a tower that forms a bridge and lets him run to his mother's aid and battled it out with Bolg on the crumbling tower. Aredhel slammed her head against the rock stairs.

Snarling, inelegant rage overtook every muscle as Aredhel fought Bolg tooth and nail.  At the climax of the battle, she climbed onto Bolg's shoulders, looked him in the eye, and severed (most of) his head from his body, her knives crisscrossing in a spray of black blood. Bolg stumbles backward — and right into the path of Beorn, who ripped him apart. Aredhel saw another orc charging towards them & quickly picked up a burst of speed pushing off from the ground over their heads bringing her weapons to scissor through the orcs neck cleaving it from its body, landing on its chest turning around to grin at the speechless look the her son was giving.

The stench of orcs filling her nostrils, their foul blood staining her blade, while she slashed and parried, slashed and parried ... and still more would come: twisted, shrieking monstrosities, swarming around her, eager to cut her down and feast on her corpse. She turned to go back the way she'd come only to stop dead in her tracks as firelight licked the walls down that passage, too. She was cornered.

The orcs set upon her like flies and her battle-honed instincts took over as she swung her sword, decapitating the first couple that came into view. She had a slight advantage in that the passage was narrow and they could only come at her a few at a time, but as their numbers were great and relentless, Aredhel began to tire from fighting on two fronts. An unlucky blow to his hand sent her sword flying, the blade bouncing off the wall and dropping to the ground. The Elven Queen was now weaponless. Weaponless, Aredhel resorted to her fists in a desperate attempt to fight her way to freedom. Another blow caught her on the left temple and she felt a warm trickle run down her face, even as the force of it knocked her face-first to the ground. Dazed as she was, and trying to shake off the throbbing in her head, Aredhel frowned. There were screams from the Orcs and Aredhel thought they were going to attack so she was surprised when they dropped to their knees beside her.

"Lass what in Durin's name are ya doin here?!" A Dwarf exclaimed as Aredhel clambered to her feet. "My strength & weapons will always be at your side. If you die, I will die by your side." Aredhel replied. Killing the orc before her, already reaching out to the next threat, she suddenly realised something had changed. It'd gotten quieter. She looked around, not daring to put her sword down, taking in what she was surrounded with for the first time. Most of the orcs were dead, at least here. She didn't know what it looked like further away on the battlefield, where her husband was. Her chest hurt as she drew a deep breath, looking up- catching the eye of the Dwarf.

The Dwarf was standing not ten feet away, also breathing heavily, taking in the Elven Queen's state, shock and pain written on his face, but also gratitude. They both stood and looked, taking in the fact that they'd made it to this moment, all too aware that it could end any second. None of them could find their voice, fearing that saying something out loud would shatter the moment, destroy it like fragile glass; broken, never to be repaired. Behind Aredhel, something was happening. She saw it in the way the Dwarf stiffened, straightened his shoulders as he looked right past her. The Dwarf gaze returned to the Queen's face, searching for answers to questions he didn't say out loud. Aredhel straightened her back and nodded curtly, signalling him she was ready to go again. Her face hardened. Behind the Dwarf, was Azog, who after he killed the last two Elves standing nearby, made his way closer to the two of them.

They looked at each other for one more moment, gathering their strength, making promises with no words at all. A firm nod, one last look lingering on each other's eyes for a mere second, then they both turned around with a scream, raising their swords to face the enemy.

"You are very brave, young Queen." Azog croaked in hideously deformed elvish. "It is a pity that you shall not live to see another day." With that, Azog raised his enormous mace, swung it once, and then smashed it into Aredhel's chest. She flew backwards and landed hard. Aredhel gasped and choked in pain, trying to fill her lungs with air. Azog then turned his focus to the Dwarf. The Dwarf struck his chained weapon at Azog, for it to only brush part his side. "Men gamul khagun tabooed dan menu khuzi." Azog sneered as he chuckled to himself. (my grandma is a better warrior than you) The Dwarf did not laugh; instead he screamed and charged forward. They battled it out but due to the size the Dwarf was struck down with a puncture to his upper abdomen. "Ishkhakui ai durugnul." (I spit on your grave) Azog only sustained a deep cut to his leg, though he could still walk.

"Dwarf," she whispered, her voice sounding foreign to her own ears. She clutched his chest, shaking him softly. "Dwarf. Wake up." A sob escaped her when he didn't move. She pulled herself half on top of the Dwarf, gripping his body tightly, shaking him harder. "Dwarf," she said again, trembling. "Come on. Please, wake up. Wake up. I'm here."

A moment later the Dwarf opened his eyes, looking around without focus until he found Aredhel's face. "I-It's Balor Keghood not Dwarf.." The Dwarf mumbled and Aredhel laughed. "Where's Azog?" Balor asked as the Elven Queen helped him to stand up. "He's fled... though I do not know where too. Are you okay to walk?" Balor nodded.

...

"The Eagles have come."

Bilbo's eyes had fluttered open, his head pounding along with the wings of the Eagles that soared overhead. Reinforcements had arrived, and those still left with their lives may just yet survive this.

Those still left with their lives.

This thought had Bilbo scrambling to his feet with the realization that while he had been knocked out all those he held dear (loved) could be dead. Frantically looking about, he could have shouted for joy when he spotted Thorin standing atop the frozen waterfall, Azog the Defiler dead near his feet. But all joy left him as he watched Thorin fall.

No, no, no, nonononnononononnonononononononononnono, NO!

He raced across the terrain, mindlessly stepping over the bodies of orcs and goblins.

"Thorin!"

Bilbo rushed to his side and barely had a thought in his head as his mindlessly babbled about how he was going to be fine, how he was going to ive. Babbling that only increased as Thorin started apologising and acting as though he were giving his final words. "Hush now, and forgive me my final greed, My One." Thorin said with a sad smile, bringing up his hand to cup Bilbo's cheek gently and guiding him down until their lips softly touched. Drawing back after a moment, with Thorin's hand still encompassing his cheek and stroking it with his thumb unconsciously, all Bilbo could do was stare at Thorin's smile that was not unlike the one that he had seen when discussing the acorn he still kept in his pocket.

"Farewell, Master Burglar. Go back to your books, your fireplace. Plant your trees, watch them grow. If more of us valued home above gold, it would be a merrier world."

With those final rasping words, Thorin Oakenshield was gone, seemingly sucking all the joy of the world with him.